Martha stopped the recording and sank back into the pillows. His apologies bounced around the walls. When was the last time she had left him? It was the church she turned to that time. There was no taking away from the cold, unfeeling wood of the pew beneath her legs. Charles with the same comforting expressions. God would guide her through this difficult time. Her place was with Thomas, and he was grieving too.Hadn’t she lost so much already?
Perhaps she should delete the message. Go downstairs and forget she was ever married. No, that wasn’t possible. Twenty-nine years couldn’t be thrown in the trash. Her bruises meant nothing if she didn’t at least let him explain.
She returned to her mobile, and pressed play.
‘I promise it won’t happen again. I’m nothing without you. When I woke up and you were gone, I thought the worst. That you had finally fallen out of love and left me. I love you my little project. From that first day when your shoe broke, and we sat together on our bench. Martha, please, I’m nothing but an empty vessel. I know that now. I need you to come home. I will change. This will never happen again!’